One, two, three, four
by bigbew
Summary: Oneshot. Cameron teaches John to dance in order to infiltrate a party.


"One, two, three, four. One two…"

"Seriously, Cameron, I'm just not good at this…"

"You have to be, three, four…"

"Wait, wait, slow down…"

"Can't, three, four. We'll lose the rhythm, two, three, four…"

"Y, you're going too fast!"

"Not on my toes! One, two…"

"Sorry! Dammit!"

Disentangling his fingers from his cyborg protector/best friend's, John threw his hands up in frustration, not failing to notice the pissy look on her face at the same time. "This is stupid! Why the hell do I even need to learn this?"

"Because if we sit at the bar and stare at our target, people will notice." Standing with her hands on her hips, Cameron looked the very definition of a woman quickly losing patience with a clumsy oaf of a man. Why human males appeared to have no discernible amount of grace continued to baffle her. Their construction was not too dissimilar to a female, and yet they appeared to simply outclass their male counterparts when it came to moving their bodies in time with music.

"That's…that's…look, I'm never gonna get this. Can't we just knock him on the head, drag him back here and find out what he knows?" John asked hopefully. Not that he was in favour of violence, but he'd been trying to learn this stupid dance with Cameron for like a week now, and he was still no better at it.

"No we can't and you know we can't!" Narrowing her eyes into a glare, Cameron shook her head at the stubborn human in front of her, "Just learn the dance, it's very simple. Move your feet to the count and keep your eyes on the target. Why do you insist on standing on my toes every single time?"

Widening his eyes in surprise, John couldn't remember seeing his ever present guardian so passionate about something. It just wasn't like her. "Whoa, whoa, since when did you get so pissy about stuff like this? I haven't seen you this worked up since Derek ate some of your ice cream!"

"Because, I like the art of dance, John. But what you are doing is butchering what should be something beautiful!" She knew herself that she didn't usually get worked up about things like this, but her fledgling emotions were getting more and more unpredictable lately…and she'd just painted her toenails that morning. That didn't help her mood either after he'd stood on them for the seventh time in ten minutes.

"Well sooorry!" Rolling his eyes, John checked his watch quickly and cursed under his breath, "Shit! We've only got like an hour. I'm gonna go shower and change, you need to do the same."

Stepping past her, John was halfway to the bathroom when he felt her brush past him and the slammed door greeted his face. Well, it would have had he not stopped an inch short of it, "Yeah, real mature!"

* * *

><p>Once he'd <em>eventually<em> gained access to the bathroom, John took a quick shower and was now battling with his bow tie. He just couldn't get the damn thing straight. Why, oh why they had to infiltrate some fancy upper class party he'd never know. Couldn't they just go to a bar and end up in a brawl? With Cameron by his side, he actually had a chance of doing well on that one.

Speaking of Cameron, she was yet to emerge from her bedroom. It wasn't like he wanted to fight her, he was just frustrated with his own inability to learn a simple fucking dance and her attitude wasn't helping. Still though, he felt bad for yelling at her. She still didn't fully understand her new emotions yet, and she was easily upset, especially by him. In fact, only by him.

It wasn't like they were husband and wife, or even a couple at all. But ever since he'd had a moment of epiphany around about the time of Riley's death and Jesse's betrayal, he'd stopped treating her like he hated her presence and had embraced it again. She was his best friend, and it had taken a lot of apologising on his part for him to be able to live with his conscience.

The object of his musings picked that moment to enter, given away by the uncharacteristic clacking of heels on the wooden floor. Before he'd even looked away from the mirror, he felt his hands swatted away and his body turned to face her. Her hands replaced his on the tie as he looked down at her. His view was blocked by her arms, but even from her face he could tell she looked different.

He'd never seen her use such dark eye makeup, and the effect was striking. She looked more mature, more womanly, more sexy, more…everything.

Quickly banishing his rampant thoughts, John watched as she loosened his tie and carefully re-tied it, taking absolute care and absolute focus to make sure she got it perfect. Her eyes followed her fingers as they precisely folded fabric over fabric and pulled it tight.

John was dumbstruck. Her light dusting of perfume made his head swim, the heady scent making him highly aware of their closeness as he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from hers. Her long lashes hid her eyes from view slightly, and the dark shadow surrounding them drew his gaze to them more than normal. God, she had beautiful eyes…wait, what?

Shaking his head, he realised what he was just thinking…and that his body was reacting to her closeness. Taking her hands gently in his just as she finished with his tie, those lashes lifted as she looked up at him, her eyes fixing him with a questioning look. So inquisitive, so curious, and yet despite who they belonged to, so full of innocence too.

"I uh…I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier," John said, his hands still holding hers. Her head tilted to the side, a trait he'd always found cute since the day they met.

"It was rude of me. I know you were just trying to help, and…" He frowned, but more down to his own guilt than anything else, "I know how much your dancing means to you. It's one of the few things you enjoy, and I'm sorry I put it down. I shouldn't have and…I'm sorry."

Those eyes seemed to penetrate deep for the longest moment, deep into his soul. Her soft voice startled him when she spoke, and he was sure she gave his hands a quick squeeze. "Would you like to try the dance again?"

John nodded dumbly, then allowed him to guide her back into his bedroom. When she let go of his hand and moved towards the stereo, John got his first look at her outfit for the night. She looked…stunning, there was no other word for it. The long black gown clung to all the right places, the darkness of the fabric highlighting the toned skin of her bare back and the exposed skin of her legs.

When she turned back to him, John was sure he had a look that screamed 'busted' on his face as he was caught staring…and drooling a little. Wordlessly, she took his hand in hers and waited for his other to come to rest on her hip. She looked up at him just in time for the music to start, a quick flick of her hair signalling that she was ready.

John waited for her nod before he started moving in time with the music. For some reason, once he was in his classic black suit and she was in her dress, it felt easier. They moved as one, rather than her gliding and him stumbling. He held her tight, the feel of silk under his hand, heavenly.

They moved about the room, the only sound to be heard was her heels clicking and the soft music guiding them. John couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, they held his attention so easily it should have scared him, and yet it didn't. His hand moved, fingertips coming to rest on the bare skin of her back. She felt warm, and soft, and all things she shouldn't have been.

The music slowed and eventually stopped, but the couple held their embrace, bodies close, faces even closer. John swallowed deeply while trying to recapture the breath that had somehow escaped his lungs. He licked his lips subconsciously, his gaze dropping to hers as they parted slightly. Not a lot, but just enough.

She kept on looking at him, her hand still in his. She could feel his fingertips on her back, his pulse racing, his skin perspiring slightly. She looked sidelong at their joined hands, then to his hand on her back, and then back to his face. She'd never seen this look on his face before, and she found it confusing. Most of all because it played havoc with her emotions, confliction between her logical thoughts and her newfound wants and desires.

John found his voice after a moment, himself torn between what he wanted and what he knew was right. "C, Cameron?"

She looked up at him, her gaze softening as his voice croaked, "Yes John?"

"It…it's time to go." Reluctantly, he let go of her hand. Even more reluctantly, he removed his hand from her back, his fingers immediately missing the contact with her silky smooth skin. If he wasn't so sure, he could've swore that she looked disappointed too. Maybe he was imagining things.

"We're gonna be late. Was that any better?" He asked, referring to the dance.

"Yes John." Just as she was about to brush past him, she leaned forward and dropped a soft kiss on his cheek. His head snapped around to the side at the contact, a questioning look on his face. "Thank you for the dance, sir."

It looked like she was about to say something else, but a minor flick of her head and she was off towards the door again, leaving John to stare at the expanse of skin revealed by her backless dress as she disappeared out the door.

He touched his cheek and wondered what could have been, all the time contemplating just what the hell he was going to do about his fledgling relationship with his best friend. She was quickly becoming the most important person in his life.

All he could do was smile.


End file.
